


coffee, or breakfast?

by ggggnashville



Series: what if they were happy? [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, john doting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9070978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ggggnashville/pseuds/ggggnashville
Summary: Sherlock wakes up and rolls over to his left.  His arm bumps into something solid.  His head hurts just a bit and then he remembers.  The beers and the.  Oh, the kissing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> the build up to season four is making me actually crazy so come on and join me in the only way i know how to cope!!!

Sherlock wakes up and rolls over to his left.  His arm bumps into something solid.  His head hurts just a bit and then he remembers. 

_The beers and the.  Oh, the kissing._

John is sleeping beside him.  He looks beautiful.  He has one arm over his head on the pillow.  His shoulder scar is visible and Sherlock wants to kiss it but shows an incredible amount of restraint by not doing so.  John isn’t even awake, after all. 

Sherlock can’t believe it all happened so quickly.  But amazing.  It had been amazing.  _John_ is amazing. 

John rolls over so he’s facing Sherlock and then blinks several times, waking up.  He takes in his surroundings and then looks at Sherlock and smiles.

“Hello, you.”

John puts his hand in Sherlock’s hair and then leans over and kisses him. 

“Hello.  Coffee, or…breakfast?  Isn’t that what people usually offer when they wake up with someone after sex?”

“Well yes, I suppose but I also live here.”

“That is true.  Hmm.”

“I’ll get coffee and breakfast later,” John says, and then kisses Sherlock again. 

Sherlock’s mind immediately jumps to _what if I had this all the time?_

He imagines John waking up in his bed every day of the week.  John’s hair a mess, John’s face covered in lines from the sheets.  The sheets smelling like him.  Sherlock realizes that he needs this desperately to continue.  And John is so handsome it’s impossible.

 

 

John does indeed get coffee and breakfast later.  Sherlock eyes the eggs that John had fried up and eats one and then leaves the other.  He has never been one for breakfast, mostly just cigarettes and coffee, though he’s been trying to quit and failing miserably. 

“Do you ever eat a full meal?  I’ve known you over a week and you haven’t died yet but it seems strange, yeah?

“Please John, I can take care of myself.”

“Sure, says the man who consumed nothing but chocolate croissants and caffeine last Wednesday.”

“Shut up.” 

John smiles as he eats and shakes his head. 

“What doctor, tell me what I’m doing that’s so wrong?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s so wrong,” John says, and he winks as he does. 

Sherlock looks at him with expectancy and gestures for him to continue. 

Instead of answering John drags Sherlock down for another kiss, and it’s glorious. 

 

They dress enough so that if Mrs. Hudson comes up she won’t run out screaming and then crowd together in the bathroom.  They each grab their toothbrushes and John’s mouth is filled with mint foam as he speaks.

“Jesus, you know it’s been months since I’ve done this.”  His words are a bit garbled from his toothbrush but Sherlock gets the gist.

“Done what?” Sherlock asks, momentarily removing his toothbrush.

“Been with anyone.  It’s been months,” John replies.  He continues his scrubbing while watching Sherlock in the mirror. 

“Oh,” Sherlock says.  “Well.  It’s been, let’s see…nearly a decade for me?” Sherlock says, more talking to himself than anything else.  He shrugs at his reflection. 

“Wait, what?”  John side-eyes Sherlock and then spits and rinses his mouth.  “That can’t be right.”

“Well, objectively, it is.”

“No, you?”

“Yes?”

Sherlock is beginning to get worried.  Has he done something wrong? 

“But, I mean.  Look at you,” John says.  He looks genuinely confused as he crosses his arms across his chest.

“It isn’t because of lack of willing parties,” Sherlock says, feeling the need to defend himself.  “It’s just that, most people are fairly boring.”  He rinses his mouth and places his toothbrush back in its holder. 

“But ten years?”

Sherlock nods and then rolls his eyes.

“Yes, I suppose so.  It’s been ten years.  It hasn’t come up much for me.  No pun intended.”

John laughs and shakes his head at Sherlock. 

“Sorry I just figured.  You were, dunno,..” John trails off and licks his lips.

“You thought I was a slag.”

“I didn’t say that, you’re just really gorgeous.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes and John giggles a bit. 

“Okay, sorry but why ten years?  Should I be honored?”

“Of course you should be.  And like I said.  Most people are boring.  You’re not.  You’re fascinating.”

John doesn’t answer, but he half smiles and there’s a look in his eyes that tells Sherlock he really is honored.  He kisses Sherlock and runs a hand through his curls.    

He pulls away after a moment, his eyes a dazzling blue.  He looks marvelous.

“Good.”

 

***

It was a stupid case anyway.  It was all very silly given the fact that the suspect had already been identified and it was easy to find him at the drug den, but he wasn’t so easily caught.  The man was thin and small but very fast.  He was of course caught in the end, but not before he kicked John in the ribs and broke Sherlock’s nose with one forceful punch.  John ended up circling on him and punching him so hard he went down, but still, _tedious_. 

 

Sherlock’s nose hurts terribly.  The blow was unexpected and he’s angry at himself for having missed it, but even he makes mistakes.  He’s sat on the edge of the tub, John kneeling between his legs.  There’s dried blood caked down his mouth and chin that he’d tried to clean up to no avail and had ended up leaving it until they got back to the flat.  He also has some blood on his shirt, and it’s the purple one that John likes.  He’s more annoyed about that than anything else. 

“Sit still, would you,” John says, but it’s in a gentle tone.  He’s cupping Sherlock’s face in both his hands, assessing the damage. 

“It’s fine, I can just reset it myself I’ve reset it half a dozen times--”

“Hush,” John says, “You’re telling me you’ve really broken your nose that many times?  What am I saying of course you have, I’m sure you’ve been punched in the face plenty.”

“Look just leave it, I can do it.”

“Don’t think so, I’m a doctor.  I’ll be doing it.  You’ll botch it up.”

Sherlock manages to roll his eyes but John gives him a stern look and if Sherlock is being honest with himself he does love when John sternly tells him to do something.  It’s been two weeks and he’s discovered that he’d probably sit still for days if John gave him a certain look. 

“Fine just do it.” 

Sherlock braces himself and grips the side of the tub.  John puts his hands against his nose and then jerks them slightly to the right.  Sherlock yelps and grimaces.

“Okay there?”

“Yes,” Sherlock replies, annoyed that he wasn’t allowed to do it himself and unable to admit that John made quick and nearly painless work of it.  “Thank you.”

“Wow, a thank you, impressive.  Here, ice it,” John says, handing Sherlock a flannel filled with ice.  Sherlock places it against his face and winces.  It feels amazing.  “Now, let’s ice that and get you cleaned up.  I’ll bring you a clean shirt.”

John leaves the bathroom and walks into Sherlock’s bedroom, rummages around and comes back with one of his soft sleeping shirts.  Sherlock keeps his hands on his ice and John begins to undo Sherlock’s cuffs and then the buttons down the front of his shirt. 

“There you are, one arm at a time,” John says.  Sherlock feels a bit like a rag doll but John’s hands are warm and gentle so he doesn’t mind much.  “I can’t believe how hard he got you.  I’m glad I at least got him back.  Pretty sure I may have fractured his jaw.”  John smiles at this thought and Sherlock hums. 

“I got distracted.  I saw that he had hurt you.”

“Yes, but not badly.” 

“Still.  How’s your ribs?  Nothing broken I presume.”

“No, there’s bound to be a bit of bruising though.  Take that ice off so we can clean you up a bit.”

John takes a separate flannel and runs it under warm water, then gently dabs at the caked blood on Sherlock’s face.

“I can do this you know,” Sherlock says.

“I know you can, but I _want_ to do it.  And you like that I’m doing it too.”

“Mm.”

John makes quick work of cleaning Sherlock’s face, and when he’s finished he puts his palm against Sherlock’s cheek, which Sherlock cannot help but lean into.

“There you are.  Beautiful.”

“No, you,” Sherlock replies. 

John kisses the side of Sherlock’s mouth and Sherlock feels his heart flutter.  John moves to pull away but Sherlock keeps him there, putting a hand around the back of his neck. 

“Put your shirt on, then the ice back on,” John says softly.  They watch each other for a moment, and Sherlock almost feels afraid with the intimacy of it. 

“In a moment.” 

He leans forward and kisses John. 

“You like doting on me.”

“A little, yeah.”

“Good.”

 

***

“So who was it, a decade ago?  If you don’t mind me asking,” John says.  He says it quietly and carefully, seeing if anything is overstepping.  It isn’t.  John could ask anything and Sherlock would answer. 

“His name was Victor.  He was from India.”

“What happened to him?”

“He was very good to me.  I wasn’t very good to him, in the end.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.  It was a long time ago.  I was young and stupid.”

It was dark and Sherlock didn’t really want to think about Victor Trevor, who ended up hurt because Sherlock had a little cocaine problem.  It was awful to think about and so he rarely did.  Still, he wasn’t sorry.  How could he be when he had something much more incredible in his bed?

“So there’s really been no one else?” 

“No.  Does that bother you?”

“No, I don’t think so.  I’m the one who feels like a slag.”  John laughs lightly at himself.

“So what about you?  Anyone I should be worried about?”

“Ha.  No.  There was someone in uni, he was too good for me too.”

“So there have been other men?”

“Yes.  Does that bother _you_?”

“No.  I’m not surprised so much as curious.”

“There have been more women than men, that’s true.  But I don’t think I connect with them the way I connect with men.  And if I’m being honest…I’ve not connected with anyone the way it is…with you.”  John clears his throat and adjusts his body under the sheets, feeling vulnerable.  That just won’t do. 

Sherlock rolls over onto his side and finds John’s body in the dark.  He puts his head on John’s chest and then throws a leg over his waist.  There.  Now he can’t feel insecure.  Sherlock is protecting him. 

“Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry i'm nothing but predictable with my victor trevor but like i can't help it i can't! 
> 
> i haven't stopped screaming since the trailer dropped so if ya wanna scream with me follow me @ loubloomsgirlfriend.tumblr.com


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